Fate of Frost
by Gwen Winter
Summary: "You preferred the hero since our childhood! How many nights did I have to recite those stupid legends? Can't get enough of you noble heroes, right?" - "Did it never occur to you that I was not fond of the heroes, but YOUR storytelling?" Following Asgardian tradition, young Thor and Loki each get a handmaiden. But Sif and her clumsy sister Asa are not very fond of their fate.
1. The Fate of the Sisters

**Longer Summary**

Following Asgardian tradition, young Thor and Loki each get a handmaiden, chosen by an ancient oracle. But proud Sif and her clumsy little sister Asa are not very fond of their fate, each for their own reasons. Sif would rather fight with Thor's collection of swords that polish them day for day. And little Asa wants nothing more than going back to her family instead of being a handmaiden to Loki, as quiet and collected as he was terrifying.

 **Short Extract**

Loki creeps closer and closer to her as he snarls, eyes ablaze, practically spitting the words in her face.  
"Well go back to that giant oaf called Thor. You preferred the hero since our childhood! How many nights did I have to recite those stupid legends? Can't get enough of you noble heroes, right?"  
She knows better than to counter his quiet anger. The kind of anger that is dangerous, not like Thors frequent outbursts, over as fast as they start. Lokis anger instead is a fire only fuelled by any reply.  
But he was making her so darn angry, with his accusations and him never - _never_ \- trusting her feelings.  
"Did it never occur to you that I was not fond of the heroes, but YOUR storytelling?" Tears stung her eyes and she ran out of his chambers, preferring to be a coward than crying in front of him once again.

 **Author's Note**

I am already happy you obviously read until my note, and I can just hope you continue reading _Fate of Frost._

The first chapters will be little scenes from the early years of the children, following them growing up.

There will be romance after a bit of build up and probably also a bit of smut, but nothing too graphic. I'll change the rating when I know the extent of the sexy times. ;)

* * *

 **The Fate of the Sisters**

The first girl, future handmaiden for his brother Thor (obviously the _first_ one was for _him_ ) is presented in front of the throne.  
An elderly woman, probably grandmother or former wet-nurse, guides her with a firm hand on the girls back. The elderly woman speaks, the movements of her mouth drawing sharp lines around her mouth.  
„I present Lady Sif, first born daughter of Lord Hakon from the noble house of Rundstrom."

The girl takes a step forward and curtsies, which makes her high ponytail of dark hair swish in front of her face. She is tall and slender for her age, at least what Loki assumes her age to be. A few years younger than Thor, probably about his own age. And her looks are somehow sharp, not unlike his own.  
When she looks up again, her eyes pierce through his father, unafraid and oh so sharp.  
„I am Sif. Having received The Call is an honor for me. I hope to more than measure up to your expectations and make my family proud while serving you with all my might."  
Another curtsy, somehow not fragile and girlish at all, and she manages to pique Loki's interest, just a little bit, even though he was prepared to be absolutely bored by this display of their future handmaidens. Girls bore him; girls with low social standing even more, but that Sif girl seems to be acceptable.  
He could just hope that his own servant, of course the second one to be presented, would be somehow similar to Thor's –

The other girl was shoved forward and got introduced, while Sif takes her place next to Thor, one step under him of course. She has the same hair color as Sif, but that was pretty much everything that resembles her older sister. Her dark locks are twisted in a strange pattern on her head, accentuating her roundish cheeks. Huge red spots cover them and her eyes, big orbs like those of a newborn, are rimmed the same red color, probably due to crying. And while Sif is built like a miniature hunter, sinewy with small but wiry muscles, this girl is simply chubby.  
Chubby fingers, chubby arms, chubby face, chubby feet stumble towards the throne and Loki tries - and succeeds - to suppress a sigh. Great. That clumsy chubby was destined to be his servant.  
Second born chubby gulps air into her lungs, puffing out her cheeks to a ridiculous degree, and she seems to be about to faint, cry and run away at the same time.  
„I.. I am Asa. Having received the Honor is a Call for me. I hope to meet your expectations and parent my servings well."

Chubby AND stupid. She did not even notice her mistakes.  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid girl.  
Loki glances towards his father, who seems to have a hard time concealing his amusement under a stoic face.  
The faces of the crowd range from barely hidden smiles to outright laughter.

Loki wants to throw that chubby down the Bifröst.  
He's definitely going to become the laughing stock of Asgard thanks to that imbecile. As if it is not enough that he's the second born, always in Thors shadow. Now he was trapped with that good for nothing servant for eternity.

Or until he found a way to get rid of her.


	2. The Girl Who Wants to Fight

Sif had to sigh.  
Since she and Asa are young and only recently begun their period of apprenticeship, the adults are still forgiving. Small mistakes are overlooked or smiled upon. Nobody even expects them to really act like servants. Since aeons the Handmaidens of the kings offspring were more like playmates for the growing heirs until the flow of time changes things naturally.

So it really should not be a problem for her little sister Asa to do what is expected.  
By the beard of Odin, even she herself manages somehow. And people say she is stubborn and unadjusted.

But Asa is a mess.  
At night she cries for their father and even their stern wet-nurse - for whom she should have stopped caring for ages ago if you asked Sif, since she isn't a baby anymore. During the morning lessons, she does every possible mistake. In the afternoon, she angers her master Loki with her ever present clumsiness, that moony, distracted demeanor and the way she fails to cater to any of his needs, too scared of Loki to get anything right.

Sif would probably lash out at her younger sister in anger. But she has to admit that Loki is scary and hard to please. She is not sure how she would have managed the younger of the two brothers.  
And she is so glad her master is Thor, whose carefreeness and adventurousness is contagious.  
And he never scolds her. Before the presentation ceremony, she was sure he would, just the way her guardians always did.

But now in one of the bigger gardens solely for the use of the two heirs, he shows her the new gleaming sword his father gave him the day before and she can admire its sharp edges and the intricate design on the handle.  
„It is beautiful, Thor!"

Upon her admiration, the young god smiles full of pride.  
„Yes, of course. I am going to slay so many frost giants with this, you won't even be able to count them all!" He stabs at imaginary fiends, swishing through the warm spring air.

Sif's eyebrows vanish into her hairline.  
„You mean I will be present on the battlefield when you fight? To count the enemies?"

„Someone must recite my heroic achievements, right?"

Sif slides in front of him, the blade only stopping by a hair's breadth before her upper arm.  
„Can I fight instead of doing the counting?" Wide eyed she stares at him expectantly, before remembering who she is and who he is and what old nana told her about the proper behaviour of a lady. She shrinks away, inclining her head apologetic. „I am sorry, Thor, that was -"

Instead of being mad or puzzled by her behaviour, he presses the sword into her hands, grabbing his old wooden practice sword from the grasses.  
„If you prove yourself worthy, young soldier!" With the growl of a warrior he dashes towards her, wooden sword held high.

Adrenaline rushes through every of her veins, making her grab the weapon tightly and without having to think about it. His blade lands on hers, creating a dull clang as wood meets steel, echoing through the garden. She does not crumble beneath his heavy attack, that leaves her arms buzzing even though he only handles a light sword made for children. He IS the son of Odin, no matter how young and small he still is. „Not that bad, Sif. But you must attack in order to succeed in battle."

He strikes left and right and left again while she blocks every blow. When he aims again, she turns her body just slightly, making him stumble with his own momentum. Before she can reconsider her move, the sharp tip of the sword pricks his side, between two ribs.

Her sisters high-pitched voice echoes through the garden with concern.  
„Sif! What are you doing?" The little girl rushes towards Thor and herself, more waddling than running, hindered by her stubby legs.

While Thor turns around with a smirk on his face, that covers most of the slightly hurt pride in his eyes, Sif lets the sword fall onto the ground. Normally she would not be reprimanded by Asa, but this time she speaks out loud what Sif realized with a jolt, right after stabbing the young god. Well, stabbing is a bit exaggerated, but still. It should not have happened.

That's when she notices Loki coming after Asa, keeping up with her with such long, graceful strides their stark contrast is almost comical. But the look on his face is not comical at all.  
„You should know your place better, wench!" He practically shouts through the garden. „How dare you attack Odin's son! Thor should punish you for that misplaced behaviour. Since I know he won't, it is probably me who should avenge my brother pride."

He stops right in front of Sif, towering over her with that dark gaze of him. Out of his pocket, he produces a small silver dagger.  
„Cutting off your thumbs is an adequate punishment, don't you think so?"

Before Sif can retreat, a tiny figure pushes herself between them. Asa.

„No, please Loki!" She practically whines eyes shut tightly in fear. „Don't hurt Sif, please!" Her back turned to Loki, Asa grabs her sisters bigger hands, trying to cover every finger with her stubby hands. „She won't be able to work without her thumbs!"

Loki is eerily quiet for a few breaths.

Thor uses that time to pat Asas head, laughing heartily.  
„Brave little girl. Maybe you'll fight at your sister's side when we march into battle."

With a huff, Loki yanks Asa away from his touch.  
„Do not praise her for that misbehaviour." He turns the little girl around, glaring down at her. „And you! Do not ever, _ever_ again give me an order. I am your master, I am heir to the Allfather and you unworthy excuse of an Asgardian are in no place to raise your voice against me like that."

„Brother, she is just a little girl."

But in his rage Loki does not seem to hear him. He shakes the weeping Asa.  
„Well, how about I cut off your tongue since that's where those words came from. And you do not need it for working."  
He throws a look at Sif, whose is very close to crying. It seems that makes him happy somehow because he starts smirking.  
„Isn't that great, Sif? She will be able to work and never say something like that again."

„Loki!" Thor seems to be getting irritated. He is an easy, good-natured boy, but he certainly has a temper that can change on a whim.  
„It is enough, you are scaring them more than you have to."

„You do not have the right to tell me how to treat my servant! Father said so himself, we each are responsible for our own handmaiden. Stop telling me how to punish her." He backs away, dragging Asa with him, the dagger dangerously close to her mouth.

Sif starts after them, but Thor holds her back.  
„Don't. You will only make it worse. He won't hurt your sister, he knows it is wrong. And our father would punish him badly. He won't hurt her. I promise."

The two contrasting figures disappear behind an archway.

Sif know Thor was right in the late evening, when Asa stumbles into their chambers, sobbing and disheveled, but otherwise unharmed. She climbs into her sisters bed and Sif cradles her warm head, murmuring soothing nothings into her hair until it is a long time after Asa falls asleep.


	3. The New Home

**Author's note**

Since English is not my first language and I am really not sure about my writing, I would love a short review to know whether I should continue this story or not. It would make me really happy! :)

* * *

Asa slowly had adjusted to her new surroundings and vocation in the past month.  
Of course she misses her father and her nana, always keeping the small painting of her father close to her heart, in the pocket of her aprons or blouses that were part of the maiden's uniform. And she misses their home, a small tranquil mansion on the outskirts of Asgard.

But the chamber provided for her and Sif was nice.  
Made of dark wood and big chunks of stones it did not resemble the grandeur of the sleek marble and metal of the rest of the castle. But their room in the servants wing had a window that let the sunlight shine on their two beds and the small sitting areas as well as a separate bathroom they did not have to share with anyone.  
A modest dwelling of course, but she likes spending her early mornings and late evenings in their new home, away from Loki.

She grew fond of her teacher, Lady Idun, who packed so much knowledge into her rotund frame that Asa was sure she knew more than any man in Asgard, even Odin himself.  
She taught them about history and manners and cooking, about nature and healing and the royal families of Asgard and other realms. She had answers to every question Sif bombarded her with and Asa dared to ask in a timid voice.

Right now Lady Idun is just about to finish a monologue about the Bifröst.  
„And do you know who guards Bifröst, Asa?"  
The girl in question stared at her wide eyed. „It is guarded by...the mighty..." She draws out every syllable, wanting to postpone the inevitable scolding.  
But from her right Sif whispers. „By Heimdall!"  
„Guarded by the mighty Beiheimdall!" Asa gleams, but only until she notices Idun's sour look and Sif's moan.  
„It is better to admit one's ignorance than to adorn yourself with borrowed knowledge. False knowledge at that." Idun stares down at Asa, scaring her nearly as much as Loki. „I want you to listen properly and review the lessons in the evening."  
„Yes, Lady Igun", she answers with quivering lips.  
„You are lucky our lessons are over. Go now girls, they must be waiting for you already."

Sif drags Asa behind herself on he way to their master's chambers. They skid to a halt in front of the giant doors to Lokis quarters.  
„Do your best, Asa", her older sister reminds her with a firm grasp on her shoulders. Then she speeds down the corridor and vanishes in the older brothers room.  
Asa knocks on the metal door, which hurts her knuckles, and takes two deep breaths before entering. Or trying to enter, since she had to throw her small frame all the way against that giant door to open it even the smallest crack. She presses her body through the small opening she manages to create and with her foot trapped between the door and frame, promptly falls on the icy marble floor.

„You are late." Lokis voice greets her with that quiet noble intonation she already knows.  
Asa struggles to her feet again, brushing imaginary dust off her dress.  
„I am sorry, Loki."  
He clicks his tongue slightly impatiently.  
„Not the first time I have to remind you to address me properly as Lord or Master."  
It is true he tells her often, but she forgets just as many times. She is allowed to call his older brother Thor. But not him. Even though he is still a boy, he seems so much like a king, a god, it scares her.  
„Forgive me, Mast-"  
„And you forgot your apron. Again."  
Asa presses her lips together in an attempt to stop whimpering.  
„Please forgive my-"  
„Stop chattering like a drunk bard and clean."  
Asa shuts her mouth mid-apology and heads to the bookshelf. She pulls a feather duster from her satchel, diligently beginning to work her way around the sheer number of books.  
„Pull the books out and clean the bookshelf the way you are supposed to." His order comes from his chair at the overflowing desk.

With a nimble yes she starts pulling out book after book, beginning on the bottom.  
He does not read light. Every leather-bound folio weights as much as a small boulder and after the first few rows, Asa's arm starts to tremble.  
Biting her lower lip she does not dare to rest, not wanting him to accuse her of slacking off. Instead, she works through the rows of books until she got to the ones on top, that she could not reach anymore.  
She snatched a three-legged stool, but she still only reached the lower part of the book's spine. And of course, the books on the upper shelf were cramped in the small space, making it even harder to pull one copy out. She pulls and pulls on the stubborn book until it slides out of its confined space, pulling out several adjacent books with the force. The sudden lack of resistance caughts her off guard, so she stumbles and the stool wiggles and she crashes onto the marble floor with a scream.  
The pain starts in her lower back and her wrists and she wails like there is no tomorrow.

„Stop that noise at once." Lokis command is barely more than a whisper.  
He rushed towards her and pulls her off the floor with a grasp on her upper arm. Then he shakes her quivering body.  
„Why did I have to get YOU as a handmaiden? Everyone else would have been better. You incapable nuisance."  
Asa tries to apologize but the words do not find a way through the sobs. All she knows is that it hurts so much, her bruised body as well as his words, she just hast to keep on crying.  
Loki grabs her left wrist, inspecting a scrape on the inside of it, where she had grazed the floor.  
„And you are bleeding. You soil the chamber of you master."  
It hurts where his cold fingers grab her and it hurts even more when he suddenly rubs a pale golden handkerchief over the wound, then presses it down on the bruised flesh.  
„Hold it onto the mess you made. Go to the hospital ward. I do not need you here, dirtying my belongings."  
And he pushes her through his door, leaving the little girl by herself.

Only later, after being treated in the ward, does Asa notice how the blood seeped through the golden fabric, leaving dark red and dried brown blotches all over Lokis handkerchief. His possession, that must have cost a small fortune considering the thread of pure gold weaving a simple pattern on the surface. And he gave it to her without a single thought, without hesitating, even though he must have know she would dirty it with blood.  
It makes her smile a bit.


	4. The Wedding Day

**Author's Notes**

Elislin: Thanks for your review! Loki will definetly get scolded for his behaviour at some point, but I am not sure that specific incident will make it to his parents ears. :)

Guest: Thank you for the very first review on my story, even though I do not have a name to address. But I was so happy reading my first comment, I still had to answer you, hope you know that I mean you. :D I am not completely sure about pairings yet, since I always plan a storyline but things just seem to go their own way... :).

* * *

 **The Wedding Day**

Sif had somehow managed to convince Thor playing wedding was a great idea and proper preparation for his future as a king. She did not mention Loki or HIS potential future as a king.

Thor, Asa and Loki wait in the southern garden, a small alcove with many kinds of green shrubbery and pearly white flowers that Sif deemed fitting while Sif searches for the needed materials.  
Loki would have never thought Sif of all girls was prone to playing wedding. But it seems those female urges are even manifested in her rebellious character.

She comes back with her hands full of white cloth as well as a little bag in her mouth. And a rusty crown balancing on her head. She pushes the cloth onto Asa, who nearly disappears behind the transparent fabric.  
„This shall be your crown, king Thor." She had to get up on tiptoes to place the offensively plain crown on his blonde hair. It seems Thor was too enamoured by the title of king to mind the less than fitting rusty crown.  
„Hold the rings, Asa", she orders her sister, replacing the small bag with the white cloth in Asa's arms. The long layers of tulle and silk are probably supposed to be a veil. Sif pulls it over her head, a stark contrast to her black hair like ink and parchment.  
„Loki, you are the High Priest."

Loki does not want to participate in this childish game. He is far too old for something like this. But Sif leaves not room for objections.  
So he watches while Sif pins her arm into Thors hooked one and together they strut through the garden, waving their hands at invisible guest until they arrive where he stands again. The little nuisance called Asa waddles behind them, the bag with the rings in her hands.

Loki manages an immaculate speech, even though there is this pinch in his stomach when he looks at Thor and Sif and praises the great king Thor of Asgard. But his words obviously sound grand and impressive to everyone, Thor looking dignified, Sif pleased and Asa in awe of the spectacle.  
Loki tells them to exchange the rings. They wait a few moments for Asa to fumble the bag open and fish out the rings. She holds them in her small palms, offering them to the bridal couple.  
Thor grabs the smaller one, sticking in onto Sif's finger, where the too wide ring dangles back and forth. The ring Sif pushes over Thors knuckles fits snugly.  
„You are now blessed couple and reigning pair of Asgard. May your future be bright." He does not tell them to kiss, he can't.  
But Asa squeals a high pitched chant of kiss, kiss, kiss.  
Sif smashes her mouth against Thor's in a heroic attempt to finish the wedding.

Lokis stomach turns and he does not know why. He is glad this farce is over. Stupid child games.  
Thor has other plans. „Now it is your turn."  
Loki stares at Sif for a moment. His stomach turns again, but in a slightly better way then seconds ago.  
„Great idea!" Sif shouts and before Loki can say something, she pulls the veil off of her head and wraps it around Asa. The smaller of the two sisters flushes bright red, looking lost in the huge amount of silky material.  
Lokis feels the bit of color his face features just fading away.

He stares at his handmaiden. She looks like a stupid Midgardian painting of an angel, not the pretty ones, the little chubby baby ones. He hates her face. Round eyes and cheeks and lips with that button nose and the misty look in her eyes. Why could she not be like Sif, tall, slender, fierce?  
HE should marry Sif. He deserves someone like Sif, right? As king, he needs a queen to rule beside him, not a baby to watch over. But that is how it always turns out. Thor will become king. Not himself. No matter what their father always tells them.

„I am not going to marry a pudgy dimwit. Not even in play pretend. Never." His low voice does not betray him, does not show his inner turmoil.  
„You are ugly and fat, Asa. Nobody will marry you." He smirks when she starts sobbing. But his smirk feels plastered on once he notices Sif's murderous looks.  
She hugs her crying sister quickly, never letting the glare leave her face. Then without a word, not even to Thor, she ushers Asa away from them out of the garden.


	5. The First Night Alone

**The First Night Alone**

Sif has never gotten sick before, so it is even more a reason for Asa to get petrified when her sister does at the king's palace. And Sif has to stay in the healing ward, where Asa is not allowed to stay for more that an hour in the evening.  
And after her visit she is alone in their room, the small chamber suddenly seeming as big as the throne hall.  
She sobs in her bed, fearing for Sif's life that is actually not threatened by the mere cold she has. But it is the first time Asa is alone, really isolated without anyone to stay with her during the night. And it is scary, the darkness and quietness.

She is right back at the beginning of her stay at the palace, crying for her family, for her former home that she misses so dearly she can not describe the ache in her heart, in her soul and even her body in words.  
When Asa got sick in the past – and she did many times back home – her wet-nurse made her hot tea out of sage and lemon and sweet honey while her father read her many stories from old dusty books, until she fell asleep.  
Asa wishes she could do that for her sister, but she is not able to read and the healers did not allow her to make tea, telling her the healing potion would work just fine.

She can't cry and sleep at the same time, so she stays awake for longer that she ever did before, except maybe the night they took the sisters from their home.  
Dizzy, exhausted by the lack of sleep and finally too scared of being alone, she climbs out of the bed, sneaks out of her chambers without putting shoes on her feet. There is only one place she knows of where people are at such a late time.  
The private chambers of Thor.  
She is not thinking about it much, trudging through dark corridors, until the wood of the servants wing changes to sleeker materials.  
Her tiny fist knocks on Thor's door, but he does not answer. The fear of being alone is so much bigger than the fear of being scolded, so she risks a peek into the chamber. It is dark inside and the bed is flat, no sign of Thor's sturdy body.

Tears threaten to fall again and Asa wishes her father was there to read an old story to HER, not her sick sister. But nobody is there to comfort her. Nobody to read her a story, not even the shortest poem existing in Asgard.  
Nobody was there.  
So she should do it herself.

Newfound determination joins the fear of being alone, now completely ruling out her fear of scolding.  
It does not even matter to her that the only place she knows of where books are stored is the chamber of Loki.  
Her body moves on its own, guiding her to the heavy door which she manages to open pretty silently for a change. Pale moonlight shines into the room reflecting on all the shiny furniture.  
Asa keeps her gaze off of Loki's sleeping silhouette, fearing even the slightest stare could wake him up. She does not need light to find the bookshelf.  
She remembers the chunky volume that fell onto her a few weeks ago, with a detailed picture of fair women burned into the leather front.

She needs the stool again to reach it. It is tucked away next to the large desk, and she is delighted that she can carry it over to the shelf without any noise. Nobody could call her clumsy anymore.  
With careful, careful steps she climbs onto the stool, keeping her balance by grabbing the built-in shelf. Nothing bad happens.  
It is as if her feet are fairy feet and her fingers are swift as those of a hobgoblin forging a delicate sword. They fly over the books until they touch the emerald leather she remembers. Stored at the exact same spot, as if the whole row of books never left their place.  
She pulls it out, and this time, it slides out so effortlessly she wonders whether Loki buttered the sides of every book to make them more compliant. But that is a task he would have made HER do.  
The book pressed under one of her arms she climbs down again, overcoming the height between stool and floor with her too short legs.

Before she leaves, she must make sure it actually is a book of old legends just like her father's, so she opens the heavy pages.  
And remembers with a shock she can't read.  
She can not read. How could she forget? How could she possibly not remember that she can not read a single word during this whole nightly heist?  
The tears fall again and with them come whimpering and sniffling. She is on her knees in seconds, aching for the family she lost, the ill sister she can not help and the book of stories in her hands she can not read.

„What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Loki towers over her. He is pitch black, the moonlight coming from behind his back only highlighting his contours.  
„Sif is ill", she sobs in response.  
„Are you stupid? That is really not a sufficient answer to my question. I demand an adequate answer right now." His quiet voice gets eerily dark.  
„There is nobody who can read a story to me and I am all alone and it is scary, so I came to steal... borrow a book with stories from you, because I do not know another place with books, but I can't re-re-reeeead." Her last words grow to a whiny howl.  
He stares at her for a moment, contemplating her words.  
„You are honest." His eyes drill through her, but a bit of the malice is gone. Then a smirk appears on his pale face. „But really stupid. You can not read? I must say, that is a really good reason to cry."

Then he smirks some more, lips stretching all over his face, and he grabs the book, opening it to a random page. „This is a great story. Really gory. Listen. A serpent came crawling but it destroyed no one when Woden took nine twigs of glory, and then – ohh, it get's even better. Want to know how the story goes on? Well, you should just read it then. Oh sorry. I forgot. You CAN'T."  
He tilts his head up from the book, still smirking at Asa, voice full of mockery.  
She stopped crying, instead watches him with admiration. „Please, read more!"  
„No, I don't want to. Learn to read."  
Asa pouts. „But I could never read it as well as you do. I don't think anybody can. Where did you learn to read like that?"

Loki seems quite pleased by her words. „I would say it is a gift I received at birth. I sure do know my way with words, written or spoken."  
Asa, despite her usual inattentiveness, notices the way his choice of words gets more pompous.  
He seems really pleased with her flattery.  
But she means what she said. „Please read more, Loki. You make it sound like it happens right at this moment in this room."

He is so flattered and sure of himself and his abilities to read that he forgets he is mad at her and does not want her around him. He places himself onto his bed, holding the storybook as if it's a holy object and starts reading the rest of the story with an important voice.  
He even ignores Asa as she climbs onto his mattress, timidly at the bottom of the giant bed.  
Loki captures Asa with the story, teleporting her into a different world only with words, showing her places she never dreamed of before.  
Until she finally falls asleep.

Asa wakes up early in the morning, much sooner than the young prince, and sneaks back to her room.  
When they meet in the afternoon, he does not scold her for invading, as she expected, does not even mention the night.  
So a few days later Asa is not sure anymore whether it really happened or was just a dream.


End file.
